“Pppf, it’s just a giant robot.”
“How dare you speak that way of Ras Dahn!” shouts Lauk, slapping the insolent Rando on the back of the head.
The trio moves through the wilderness of an ancient city, trying to avoid falling debris.
Tek affirms, “Yeah, Rando! Ras Dahn is the great protector of our civilization. We’d be nothing without him.”
“I’m sorry,” says Rando. “Maybe I’m just tired of doing everything for Ras Dahn. He tells us to repair him. We repair him. He says build a building. We build a building.”
“We are Urbak,” Lauk reminds him. “We are builders.”
Rando turns to the elder as they trod down the abandoned highway. “But then Ras Dahn knocks the building down.”
Lauk smiles. “And then we build a new building…perfecting our skills, honing our craft.”
“We’re good at building,” Tek certifies, “That’s why the other tribes come to us. We are Urbak.”
“…we are builders…,” Rando finishes.
Lauk puts an arm around Rando. “Is something troubling you, young one?”
“I…I just want something more,” the young man answers.
Tek blurts out, “We have freedom. What more could you want?”
Rando nods slowly. “Yeah, we are free. Ras Dahn wrecks our enemies and keeps us from slavery, but what are we free to do? Just build stuff for him?”
“We are Urbak.”
Rando puts up a hand. “I know that we’re Urbak, but maybe, could an Urbak do something more than just build?”
Lauk considers aloud, “We have many professions in our society. We have farmers who grow crops, according to the plans of Ras Dahn. We have miners that procure the materials we need to serve Ras Dahn. We have metallurgists, plastic workers, and cleaners, all good building professions. We have soldiers who protect our society from those who would steal the secrets of the Urbak and the knowledge of Ras Dahn.”
Rando shrugs his shoulders as he suggests, “Maybe we should share our knowledge with the other tribes.”
The other two gasp.
Rando quickly adds, “We could all grow together and become one really big society where even more people could build stuff for Ras Dahn to knock down.”
Lauk speaks sternly, “I don’t know why I have to remind you, but Ras Dahn strictly forbids the sharing of his knowledge with the other tribes. We offer our services to the tribes. They give us supplies. That is the way of things. The other tribes are not ready to know our secrets. Ras Dahn has said so. It’s been proven. Remember Jokdar and that terrible war?” Lauk pauses before saying, “Well, that was before your time, but you’ve heard the stories.”
“Jokdar was crazy. I’m talking about sharing with normal people.”
Lauk cuts his eyes at Rando. “Ras Dahn has judged them unworthy. We share the knowledge when Ras Dahn says and not a day sooner.”
Cowed into silence, Rando moves on with the group. Once they pass through the abandoned city, they reach a grassy hill. Moving steadily up the incline past thigh-high vegetation and flowers, the trio trudge towards their goal. At the hill’s summit they look out towards a village on the horizon. At this distance, they can still see the concrete structures and steel buildings.
“There they are, Rando,” Lauk affirms, “our customers.”
They start down the slope when a rumbling stops them.
Tek points towards the sky. “What’s that?”
Lauk and Rando follow Tek’s gaze. Roaring through the atmosphere straight down from above is a gargantuan ball of fire. The flaming object slows down before landfall for just a split second. Then it makes a seismic flop on top of the horizon village. They all watch in horror as the resulting shockwave rushes across the plain toward their grassy hilltop.
Lauk turns to his young charges. “Get down!”
The group hits the ground before the gale force air passes over them. Once the cacophony dies down, the trio stands and looks out towards their former customers. Standing in the place of the tribal village is a tall, cuboidal monolith. Small flurries of refracted light can be seen dancing down its orange surface.
“It’s beautiful,” notes Rando.
“It’s the Enemy,” Lauk exhales. He grabs Rando’s arm and tugs him away. “You too, Tek. Quickly, we must get back to Urbakhnim.”
Rando doesn’t resist the tugging and follows the older man, but asks, “What? The enemy? Which enemy? We’re not at war with anyone!”
Lauk shouts back as he begins to run. “It’s not ‘an’ enemy. It’s ‘the’ Enemy!”
Rando has trouble keeping up with the old man as they race back down the hill and through the ancient city. Eventually, they make it to the rice fields. Before darkness falls, they manage to return to the walls and gates of Urbakhnim. A sentry spots them and opens one of the city’s giant gates. The trio runs through the wide roads and streets past pedestrians and the tiny teacher orbs of Ras Dahn. They zoom past work areas, where workers build immense towers in service to Ras Dahn. Finally, they reach their destination, the heart of Urbakhnim: the throne of Ras Dahn.
The red and gold building of glass and steel towers over the rest of the city. Teacher orbs float about in a much greater density here. They all flow up and down from the giant, humanoid machine sitting atop the throne: Ras Dahn, the Great Protector. Rainbows shimmer off of his angular black and chrome frame.
Wheezing, coughing, and gasping for breath, the trio stumble into the chamber of scholars. Old men and young scribes gather around them. Teacher orbs whiz and circle above their heads.
“The Enemy is here!” Lauk shouts. Then he collapses to the floor, energy spent from running. A scribe rushes to get medical staff for the old man. The old scholars question Tek and Rando about Lauk’s proclamation.
“It… it landed in the Qubakim village,” Tek manages to sputter out, “west of here, past the ancient city.”
“Yeah, yeah! It was this huge monolith,” Rando explains, “It was orange and it shimmered, kinda like Ras Dahn does.”
The scholars nod their heads and stroke their beards. “Yes, this does sound like the Enemy that Ras Dahn warned us about.”
“Well, what do we do?” asks Rando.
A voice booms throughout the halls of the throne of Ras Dahn:
“RAS DAHN KNOWS.”
Then the ceiling shakes and the teacher orbs begin a melodic keening. A scholar puts a hand on Rando’s shoulder. “Do not worry, young one. Ras Dahn will take care of it. Would you like to come to the observation level?”
Rando nods his head and follows the scholars towards an elevator in the back of the room. Tek tags along. The elevator rises through a clear shaft in one of the spires lining the back of Ras Dahn’s throne. Rando can see the great Protector walking through the wide streets of Urbakhnim. His massive shoulders avoid the well-spaced buildings. The great mechanical man cautiously treads through the town, keeping the resonance of his thunderous footsteps to a minimum. Rando can see the main gate opening, letting the great Protector through to do his duty. Once through, his stride turns into a titanic jog.
Rando and the scholars reach the top floor of the spire and the clear plastic doors of the elevator open up into a round room with windows all about overlooking the city and the lands beyond. One of the scholars walks toward the window facing west. He touches it twice. The window changes its view. Now the ancient city is shown.
One of the scholars explains, “We are now looking through the eyes of Ras Dahn.”
While waiting for the Great Protector to make it to the Enemy, Rando and Tek speak to the teacher orbs to send messages to their families. Night is falling and they have to let their families know they’re all right.
“I’m with the scholars,” Rando tells his father. “There’s a situation and we had to call Ras Dahn. I’ll be home late. Don’t wait up.”
Spotlights on the front of the mechanical giant power on and pierce the darkness of night. Rando is transfixed by the viewpoint of the Great Protector. The grassy hill they stood on when the Enemy landed is but a minor obstacle in the eyes of Ras Dahn. The robot puts out a hand to grab hold of the hill to push himself over. Rando catches a glimpse of some markings on Ras Dahn’s forearm:
RA5-D04N/ 012
Rando points to the markings. “What are those?”
“We do not know,” answers one of the scholars. “Ras Dahn has expressly forbidden the use of writing in our society.”
“That’s a written language?” Tek inquires.
“It’s meaning lost to time,” says another scholar.
“Y’know, it’d be kinda convenient to have a written language,” Rando comments.
“Ras Dahn forbids it,” a scholar reiterates.
“But with a written language,” Rando goes on, “we could form our own knowledge.”
“Yet, that knowledge could not be protected,” a scholar counters, “which is why Ras Dahn gave us the teacher orbs. The orbs give and receive knowledge and all knowledge goes through Ras Dahn, who protects all of our information.”
“Ras Dahn is the Great Protector,” goes the chorus of scholars.
Suddenly, Tek points at the viewing window. “It’s the Enemy!”
The eyes of Ras Dahn have indeed spotted the orange monolith. The spotlights of Ras Dahn move up and down the extraterrestrial structure. A crease appears on one side of the monolith. Slowly the crease widens. Rando realizes that the monolith is opening up. Something inside is trying to get out. One whole side of the monolith is being pushed outward, like a person pushing open a door. The spotlights scan the darkness within. Rando can see an arm. It’s robotic! The arm looks identical to Ras Dahn’s. Rando catches a glimpse of a marking on it:
RA5-D04N/ 015
Ras Dahn slams the monolith shut. The thunder clap of the closing is heard even by the residents of Urbakhnim back on the other side of the ancient city. The monolith emits a squeal of static.
Ras Dahn bellows in response:
“NO. I WILL NOT COMPLY.”
The monolith emits another squeal.
“NO. RAS DAHN PROTECTS.”
Tek, Rando, and the scholars look on through the viewing window as Ras Dahn grabs the monolith on both sides, keeping it closed. Bright, yellow beams of light appear to come from Ras Dahn’s chest. The beams quickly converge into a bolt of destructive power, boring a hole through the monolith. Its orange sheen fades, turning brown and then neutral grey. The monolith crumbles and collapses down to the ruins of the village below.
With the crisis averted, the scholars send Rando and Tek home to their families. The next day, Rando is called back to the throne of Ras Dahn. The young man enters the ornate halls of the immense building and heads to the chamber of scholars once more. Inside, Rando is greeted by a single scholar instead of the dozen from the night before.
The scholar speaks first: “You have questions, yes?”
“Not many,” Rando answers, “just a few.”
The scholar walks towards Rando. “According to brother Lauk, you have many questions. You question Ras Dahn. You question our way of life. You question the role of the Urbak.”
Nervously, Rando replies, “N-no, I know our role. We’re builders, right? I mean, what’s wrong with a couple questions?”
The scholar gives a shallow smile. “Nothing, of course,” the scholar responds in a willowy voice. “Follow me.”
“To where?” asks Rando.
The scholar smiles again. “Ras Dahn has the answers you seek.”
The scholar escorts Rando through the halls until they reach a room on the twentieth floor. Its full-length windows offer a view of Urbakhnim from in between Ras Dahn’s legs.
“This is the chamber of reason,” the scholar reveals, “Ras Dahn will speak to you shortly. Please, have a seat.” The willowy-voiced scholar motions towards a lone chair sitting in the middle of the room. Then the scholar leaves, closing the door behind him.
Alone in the chamber of reason, Rando takes a seat. He rests his limbs on the chair’s armrests. A sharp pinch shocks his right arm.
“Ouch!” Rando yelps. Rando rubs the arm while he waits. Within a few minutes, a flurry of teacher orbs form a yellow, glowing cloud in front of him. From the cloud comes a gentle, yet metallic voice:
“I am Ras Dahn. You have questions for me?”
Rando sits up straight in the chair. “Yes, I do. First, why aren’t we allowed to share your knowledge with the other tribes? It could help them better themselves.”
The teacher orbs dance as Ras Dahn speaks: “I have existed for many years. In that time, I have observed that human beings only use knowledge to subdue or destroy other humans. This cannot be allowed. Thus my knowledge must be protected to prevent the annihilation of mankind.”
Rando queries, “Okay, I can understand that. I’ve heard stories about Jokdar and the Great War, but you forbid us from even starting a written language and forming our own knowledge. Why?”
The Great Protector elucidates, “If you were allowed to form your own knowledge, it would ultimately end in the destruction of your people or others. Knowledge that is written is unsafe. It can be taken and used by others, which would lead to their destruction. My teacher orbs are all you need to learn and grow under my protection.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” says Rando, “I know not all humans are good, but don’t you think that’s a little extreme? Why are you so afraid of us? The scholars said that the markings on your arm are a written language, which means whoever built you had written language. You’re not bad, so how could the humans that built you be bad.”
The orb cloud shivers. “Why do you assume I was built by humans?”
“Who else could’ve built you?”
“Aliens,” Ras Dahn remarks.
“Aliens?”
The orb cloud changes colors to a fuchsia tone. “I did not realize how limited I have made your minds.”
“Ras Dahn,” Rando repeats, “why are you afraid of us?”
The orb cloud changes back to yellow. “I have existed for hundreds of years, since before the great Cataclysm, and even then, I was programmed with the history of human beings living thousands of years before that. My knowledge of humanity is vast and my data leads to only one conclusion: humans are dangerous. In ancient times, your people fought many wars for various reasons: money, power, land, ideas, etc. There is even a legend of a war that was fought to take back one man’s wife. Humans are petty and dangerous. Increased knowledge only made them create more dangerous weapons, weapons that eventually threatened the entire planet.”
Rando shakes his head. “But all humans aren’t like that. I haven’t killed anyone in my life. I don’t even know anyone who has taken a life. The humans you speak of died a long time ago. We’re a different people now. Why don’t you give us a chance?”
The orb cloud darkens. “I did give humanity a second chance. I gave one human being the knowledge of Ras Dahn, to test him. That human’s name was Jokdar.”
“You created Jokdar?” Rando shouts, standing up from his seat.
“Please, sit down,” orders the Great Protector, “and, no, I did not create Jokdar. I simply gave him knowledge of human history and human technology. I did not expect him to start the war that killed over six hundred thousand Urbak.”
“Wait,” says Rando, “you’re judging humanity by the acts of one man. Jokdar was crazy.”
“No, he was not. He passed all of my psychological evaluations before I chose him. Before I gave him knowledge, Jokdar was just as passive as you are. Gaining knowledge broadened his view of the world. Once he realized what treasures existed in the world, he desired them. His desire turned to lust and his lust led to the deaths of many people.”
Rando begins sweating as he contemplates the meaning of what Ras Dahn is telling him. “Well, if you think humans are so dangerous, then why protect us? Why not just wipe us all out?”
“I was programmed to protect,” Ras Dahn replies, “I chose not to disobey this directive, even though the others had.”
“Others…?”
“Yes,” admits the Great Protector, “I am not the only Ras Dahn. My number is 012. The others wanted to destroy mankind and guide another mammalian species to prominence. The common gerbil was considered a suitable replacement. Thus I, and other like-minded Ras Dahn, fought against these Enemy Ras Dahn. Our war caused the Great Cataclysm.”
“That’s what was in the monolith.”
“Yes, I am the last of my kind, but one factory remains that builds Ras Dahn. Fortunately for your people, it takes many years to build a Ras Dahn.”
Rando realizes that his mouth is hanging open. He slumps in the chair. “So you’re just a little kid hiding from the big, bad monsters.”
The swirling teacher orbs pause for a moment. “Yes. That metaphor is accurate.”
Rando sits in silence, then he says, “Ras Dahn, none of that explains why you hinder humanity’s thirst for knowledge. We can help you if you give us the tools. We can destroy that factory and your evil brothers.”
Cuffs spring out of Rando’s chair, restraining the young man. The orbs speak the words of Ras Dahn, the Great Protector, “Knowledge is power and power corrupts. If I give you the knowledge to destroy my brethren, you will turn around and use that knowledge against me, and I’ve already told you too much already.”
“Questions lead to knowledge,” Ras Dahn explains further, “Knowledge leads to power and power leads to corruption. Humans are at their best when they are busy and simple-minded. Your inquisitive nature is a problem that must be dealt with. The pinch you felt earlier was a drug that suppresses your brain’s ability to form new memories. When it wears off, you will remember none of this, but it is clear that your mind needs molding.”
Rando struggles against the manacles. “Wait, wait! Why did you tell me this in the first place if you were just gonna erase it?”
“To prevent the rebellion of Ras Dahn, we were programmed with the concept of ‘guilt’. Conversations like this allow me to circumvent that failsafe.”
The willowy-voiced scholar enters the chamber and grabs Rando’s face. He spreads Rando’s eyelids open while a cluster of teacher orbs shoot thin beams of light into Rando’s pupils. As the beams reach into his brain, Rando screams out, then falls limp. The scholar lets go of him and stands over Rando’s body for several minutes. Finally, the young man sits up.
The scholar welcomes him. “Greetings, young one. Tell me, what is your name?”
“Rando.”
The scholar watches as a smile forms on Rando’s face. “Why are you smiling?” asks the scholar.
Rando looks at the scholar. “Ras Dahn has shown me the truth of my existence.”
“Really? And what is the truth of your existence, young one?”
“I am Urbak. I am a builder.”